


Pokémon Go Out With Me

by Helena_Hathaway



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Almost a crack!fic but not quite, Blow Jobs, Frerard, Hand Jobs, I think I took this a little too seriously, M/M, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon GO - Freeform, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7495956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helena_Hathaway/pseuds/Helena_Hathaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is a rather antisocial hermit who leaves his house for very few reasons, none of those including human interaction. Except now Nintendo is trying to get him out of the house with the promise of Pokémon, and he has waited his entire life to catch ‘em all, he’s not going to let a silly thing like the outdoors stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pokémon Go Out With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is not in celebration of Ray Toro's birthday, however it is a happy coincidence that I am uploading it on Ray Toro's birthday. So a happy Ray Toro's birthday to all you emo trash reading this.

Let it not be said that Gerard Way doesn’t leave the house, because this is not true. He has left the house at least twice this week. Once was because he was craving cereal and the milk he had in his fridge had gone bad nearly three weeks ago, and the second time because his internet was down so he needed to find a place with WiFi before he went insane. Other than that however, Gerard is pretty much a housewife without a husband, kids, or any chores whatsoever. 

He hates chores so much that he invested in a Costco size box of paper plates and cutlery. There’s a very good chance he’s growing a new species under his couch because he doesn’t give enough shits to even consider vacuuming. Gerard, even though he’s nearly thirty and should know better by now, still does the sniff check on his clothes and only does laundry when the stench almost makes him pass out. 

He’s perfectly content being a recluse, as he doesn’t much enjoy other peoples company, not because he doesn’t like people, because he does, he’s just very awkward and socially inept. He also has a knack for not noticing social queues so he doesn’t know when to stop talking, start talking, or anything else for that matter. But damn if he doesn’t know a lot about Star Wars.

Gerard’s life, for years, up until today, has been with a closed door. He shuts the door to everything, his apartment, other people, responsibility, tax collectors, he just kind of ignores the world outside of his own little bubble. His bubble ends at his front door, and he tries to stay in it, only leaving in the direst of emergencies. There’s a good chance Gerard would go down with the building if it were to set fire, because he just can’t leave his comic book collection to die on their own.

That is, up until today, because Gerard, being the cool, hip, and totally responsible adult that he is, could only survive so long without at least _trying_ the new Pokémon app.

If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Ray’s, he’s the one who had to tell Gerard of the apps existence, and Ray is just an all-around hazard to Gerard’s life. He’s either trying to get Gerard out of the house, which he very much would like not to do, or he’s trying to make Gerard’s life a happier place, and while Gerard respects that and totally loves the attention, he also likes moping and wasting his life away. So Ray is obviously just a huge dick.

“No, dude, like it’s not like X and Y or anything, it’s like you actually find Pokemon in real life,” he said. Gerard was a fool to listen.

“How so?”

“Like, you could find a Bulbasaur in your bathtub.”

“Keep talking,” Gerard said. His life has been going downhill since, and it’s only been about 4 hours.

His boss is not happy, Gerard’s already somewhat of a slacker, he always has been, but he hasn’t been submitting nearly as much work and it’s all because of that fucking Psyduck who is a slippery little shit and keeps eluding him before he can actually catch the motherfucker.

Not only does Gerard leave his house for the first time by choice in over three days, but his destination is not to a store, and that’s how you know shit’s getting serious. He leaves his house only because he will die if he doesn’t. Otherwise he orders takeout and hides behind his laptop, never stepping into the light of day, like the vampire he used to get teased about being in high school.

So Gerard’s not going to a grocery store, he’s not going to Mikey’s place, or even to the comic book store. No, Gerard finds himself, for the first time in sixteen years, in a park. 

He’s on the hunt for a Beedrill and goddamn if he isn’t going to find that stupid fucking bee if it kills him. 

Gerard is not very focused on where he is going however, and in the past half an hour, has almost walked into at least three people, stubbed his toe, stubbed another guys toe, almost walked into oncoming traffic, and almost been forced to socialize. The last was easily the most horrific.

Gerard, sitting under the shade of a tree adjacent to a pokéstop and waiting for it to refresh so that he can get more pokéballs, receives a phone call, whilst contemplating the incessant need of the Pokémon universe to add poke to everything, much like McDonalds’ need to make everything a McProduct. McFreaking Pokétastic.

Without even introducing himself, not even bothering to say hello to his only, dearest brother, Mikey starts off with, “Gerard are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, why?” Gerard asks, confused, because usually when Mikey calls him around this time of the day he’s inviting him over for food and Gerard, though hating the outdoors, does love food, so he usually accepts that invitation. To be fair, asking Gerard if he’s okay is a valid introduction because he usually is not, but it just seems a little bit out of the blue at 5:00 on a Friday.

“I just got a text from Pete, and he said that he saw you at a park. Like, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Gerard replies. 

“Why are you at a park?” Mikey asks, and he sounds worried at this point, “you’re not, like doing anything illegal are you?”

“What? Mikey, I can go to a park without the intent to buy drugs,” Gerard says, and he doesn’t know where Mikey could possibly have gotten that idea. Gerard’s clean as a whistle these days if you don’t count the fact that he only showers once a week, and the only thing he’s addicted to is waffles. A fair argument could also be made for pancakes.

“Are you sure?” Mikey asks.

“I’m a humble, god fearing, law abiding, overly emotional man who has every right to be at a park whenever he so wishes.”

“Are you sleepwalking?” Mikey asks. Short of Bela Lugosi rising from the grave and murdering people at a playground, Mikey can’t think of a good reason for why Gerard would be at a park.

“I’m not,” Gerard replies.

“Have you been hypnotized?”

“No.”

“Have you been invaded by a body snatcher?” 

“No.”

“That’s what a Gerard who’d been invaded by a body snatcher would say,” Mikey says.

“It’s also what a Gerard who _hasn’t_ been invaded by a body snatcher would say.”

“I think the latter is the more likely alternative,” Mikey replies.

“Can I not enjoy the fresh air anymore without you questioning my intent?”

“Not when I happen to know for a fact that you would consider asparagus to be fresh air because it came from the ground and is green.”

“Are you trying to imply that asparagus is not fresh air?”

“Gerard, cut the crap, why, of everywhere in the world, in this entire solar system, in this entire _universe_ , are you at a park?”

“I’m catching Pokémon,” Gerard says, like it’s obvious, rolling his eyes even though Mikey can’t see him.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m catching Pokémon.” 

“That’s what I thought I heard, but I’m pretty sure that means you’ve gone Zubat shit crazy. Gerard, Pokémon don’t actually exist.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Gerard says.

“Gerard,” Mikey says, with a very patronizing tone that Gerard would punch him for were he here.

“Michael,” Gerard replies in the same tone, because he deserves it. 

“Gerard, do you need me to come over there and drive you home?” 

“Mikey, I’m not insane,” Gerard replies, but Mikey doesn’t sound so sure. 

“Can you be certain of that?”

“There’s no way to know for sure.”

“As I suspected.”

“No, ugh, Mikes, there’s a new Pokémon app that lets you find Pokémon in the real world. Ray told me about it and I don’t even know what happened next I’ve just been catching Pokémon for like twenty minutes.” Gerard looks at his watch then says, “scratch that, 4 hours.”

“Dude are you serious?” Mikey asks.

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “I just found an Eevee in a trash can.”

“Fuck. This whole time I could’ve lured you out of the house with a fucking Pokémon?” 

“Mikey, have you met me?” Gerard asks, which is to say, yes.

Mikey makes a huffing sound and then Gerard can hear interference on his end, then Mikey’s shouting. From what he can make out from the nonsensicalness, Pete just got home and Mikey is making fun of him to Pete.

“Bitch, I can hear you,” Gerard says.

“Sorry,” Mikey says though he’s laughing. “I’m totally not making fun of you.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you in your sleep someday.”

“You left the house to chase Jigglypuff,” Mikey says, his voice high, like he’s on the brink of cry-laughing. 

“I’m hanging up on you,” Gerard says before he does just that. Mikey can be a bit of an asshole most of the time, but it’s the little moments when he’s not an asshole that their relationship is built on. They’re actually really close for brothers, but Gerard still hates him, but like in a ‘I’d probably murder someone for you’ type of way.

Gerard walks around, looking for a Pokémon that he doesn’t already have, because he really doesn’t need any more Rattata’s. Gerard spots the shape of what he immediately recognizes to be a Beedrill only a little way ahead of him and he hurries over towards it.

He sees it at last and is taken aback by how large it is, it’s actually pretty huge. Gerard throws his pokéball at the Beedrill, missing it by about 7 miles, and then continues to throw the balls at him, consistently missing him. He does however, after waisting 8 pokéballs, catch it, only for it to escape.

“Motherfucker,” Gerard groans, yelling angrily at himself, the Beedrill, the sky, and anyone else who might be listening.

Gerard steps back, trying to get a better angle on this bitch before he tries again but he finds himself stepping on someone’s heel and practically falling over.

“Fuck!” Gerard yells, “I mean shit, I mean crap. No, I mean _fuck_.”

Gerard turns to whoever’s foot he just assaulted who he knows he’s now going to have to awkwardly apologize to, and then run away from. It’s a man, about Gerard’s age, though he looks better on it than Gerard does because Gerard has to register the bags on his own eyes as carry ons at the airport.

He’s short, like Mikey’s boyfriend short. Like he’s pretty sure that this guy is actually _shorter_ than Pete, and Gerard hasn’t met a grown man in his entire life who is shorter than Pete. The guy is also like super fucking attractive but Gerard decides to push this thought to the back of his mind, because the only thing that can come from thinking that is pain and suffering. Or at least, that’s usually what happens when Gerard falls in love with strangers in public, which, contrary to popular belief, he does quite frequently.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard says, or more accurately mumbles, as he tries to turn back to his Beedrill. 

“It’s all good man,” the guy says, before drifting off for a moment before saying, “Dude is that a fucking Beedrill?”

“What?” Gerard asks.

“Dude,” the guy replies, “the fuck, all I’ve seen are fucking Weedle’s everywhere, and here you are with a Beedrill.”

“Well I caught it but then it got away,” Gerard says, not even registering that this guy somehow knows exactly what Gerard is doing.

“Try again!” the guy says, and he peers over Gerard’s shoulder as Gerard throws yet another four balls at it before catching it again. There’s about thirty seconds of terrified anticipation to see if it escapes again before there’s an audible sigh of relief from both of them as the screen reads ‘gotcha.’

“You have some really shitty aim, man.” He looks down at his phone and frowns, “I’m not seeing a Beedrill, guess you’re just a lucky bastard. But congrats anyway.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Gerard says, only now realizing that this is an actual human person who is talking to him. This person also happens to know a thing or two about Pokémon which just means that he’s a potential heartbreaker, because he’s the kind of guy Gerard would fall head over heels for. 

“Sorry, I’m Frank,” the man says, “I’m playing Pokémon Go too, obviously.” He shows Gerard his phone where he sees a familiar screen, so he smiles faintly at Frank so as to make him think that he too is a human from this planet. Gerard isn’t sure himself if that’s actually true or not though.

“What?” Gerard asks, forgetting how it is you’re supposed to communicate with new people. He hasn’t talked to a new person, like actually _talked_ to a new person, small talk to the grocer checking you out aside, in at least three months. He’s forgotten how it’s done. He knows how to talk to people online. He’s not every good at it, but he knows what he’s meant to do at least. This, this is just something that’s going way over his head. 

“This is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Oh, right, fuck. I’m Gerard.”

“Hi Gerard,” Frank says, “is it too soon to ask you what team you’re on, or what?” 

Gerard’s eyes widen, because he’s not entirely sure he just heard that right.

“I’m mystic,” Frank says, and Gerard hears a clicking sound in his brain. What Pokémon team. Pokémon teams. Of course. _Pokémon_. 

“I, uh, me too,” Gerard says.

“I’m sorry, should I leave?” Frank asks, “I feel like I’m bothering you, I can go-”

“No, sorry!” Gerard says, because, while he doesn’t overly like talking to other people, he doesn’t want to be rude. His mother raised him right. “I’m just, gosh, I’m just like, awkward. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I don’t get out a lot.”

“Neither do I,” Frank replies. “I don’t go to parks, like, ever. I’m just catching Pokémon.”

“Yeah, same. My brother, uh, actually called me because he didn’t believe there was any way in hell I’d actually be at a park.”

“That sounds like me,” Frank says.

“So what’s the rarest you’ve caught?” Gerard asks.

“Um, I caught an Abra not long ago,” Frank says, “though I’m not entirely sure if Abra is rare or not quite yet, because I’ve found at least thirty Eevee’s in my living room alone.”

“I’ve seen a fucking army of Pidgey’s, man,” Gerard says.

“No one fucking wants a Pidgey,” Frank says, “I mean, I’ll be honest, no one wants a Beedrill either but I haven’t been able to catch anyone past second evolution.”

“Well, do you know the museum across town?” Gerard asks him.

“Yeah?” Frank asks.

“Well there’s like six or seven Pokéstops near it, and people are setting off lure modules all the time,” Gerard says, because let it not be said that Ray is not a good friend. He’s giving Gerard all the tips that he needs.

“Cool,” Frank says, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Gerard looks down immediately when his phone buzzes, only for him to see yet another fucking Pidgey.

“Pidgey again,” Gerard says.

“I see it too,” Frank says. Gerard eyes as Frank taps it, then proceeds to catch it with only one ball. Gerard really does have bad aim and has been wasting about three per Pokémon. 

“So what’s your favorite Pokémon?” Frank asks after totally making Gerard jealous of his Pokémon ability.

“I have a special place in my heart for Squirtle. He was my first starter.”

“Personally, I’m always a slut for Lapras,” Frank says.

“Do I wanna know?”

“Just a fucking sexy little sea monster.”

“Right, yeah, sure,” Gerard says.

“Oh my, lure module,” Frank says then starts pointing, “that way.”

“Shit,” Gerard says, and he starts, what can only be described as _jogging_. He jogs. Like he exerts as much effort into this as he does when he almost misses the subway. That’s more than he does in four weeks combined. Frank follows, just as fast, just as eager to get where they’re going. It’s also convenient because Gerard’s trying to hatch an egg and he’d pretty much been stationary for the past fifteen minutes as he kept waiting for the Pokéstop to refresh.

The Pokéstop is at least another couple of blocks away, it’s a big park. Gerard is surprised to see that the majority of the people in it are all holding their phones and walking in much the same direction. They’re like lemmings only more mindless and more zombie like.

“Wow, that’s more people than I see in a week,” Gerard says, stopping when he sees the crowd around the Pokéstop which is literally just a fucking boulder, like this is what passes as a tourist attraction in this town apparently. A huge ass rock. Though to be fair, a rock being a tourist attraction pretty much describes the entire state of New Jersey, the only way it could get any more on point is if a Pokéstop were on a _literal_ landfill.

“The Garden state,” Frank says when they’re close enough to the boulder now to collect the stuff around it, making Gerard laugh slightly. Gerard only gets three Pokéballs, but he supposes that it’ll have to do. Then he takes a seat on the grass and waits for Pokémon. Frank, who seems to be rather fond of Gerard, sits down next to him. He completely ignores the fact that there is a very pretty girl behind him who is being very pretty with her very pretty face and her very pretty everything else. Frank just ignores her, and it should really be noted that she is very pretty, but Frank sits in front of Gerard.

“And now we wait,” Gerard says. He doesn’t have to wait long though because his phone buzzes and he’s already trying to collect on a Zubat which is lingering right behind Frank’s left ear. It’s actually kind of cute. Gerard vaguely considers taking a picture of Frank when he holds his phone up to catch the Zubat, because Frank will never know and he’ll be able to show Mikey the picture later and say that a guy this attractive actually talked to him. Mikey probably won’t believe him without proof. Gerard decides against this however, because it would be really fucking creepy. 

“It’s so weird, it’s like you’re taking a picture of me,” Frank says, though he can tell Gerard’s trying to catch a Pokémon.

“Zubat,” he says.

“Zubat’s have always bothered me. Like where’s your fucking face bro?” Frank says. “Since we’re going to be here for a while, half an hour actually, mind if I just sit and talk to you?”

“No, sure, yeah,” Gerard says, not sure if that’s the order in which he had wanted to use those words.

“Great,” Frank says, “so what do you do?”

“I’m, a, uh, artist, kind of.”

“An artist?” Frank asks, “I’m intrigued.”

“Like I do cartoons and shit,” Gerard says, “like cartoon network, that’s technically who I work for. I work from home, and I sometimes do some freelance stuff.”

“Okay, I’m not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.”

“It’s not as cool as it sounds,” Gerard shrugs, “anyway, what do you do?”

“Oh, just a cubicle job, you wouldn’t understand it because I barely do. I’m also in a band, and that’s like, that’s my real job. Not to sound like a total tool, but it is, pretty much.”

“Cool. I like bands,” Gerard says before filtering out his own words. What the fuck is wrong with him, this is a cute, sweet guy who actually wants to talk to him and play Pokémon? Gerard is an idiot.

“Oh yeah? What kind?”

“Uh, punk, mostly.”

“For real?” Frank says, “punk is my bread and butter.”

“I can tell,” Gerard says and then blushes. He didn’t mean to say that either. Frank does look like a punk though, in all fairness. He’s got the lip ring, dyed black messy hair, Ramones shirt, and black jeans that were probably skinny jeans once but have been worn so much that they’re neither skinny, nor even really black anymore, but rather a dusty sort of grey. 

Frank looks down at himself and smirks, “yeah, that’s fair.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frank says, “I do look like an Iron Maiden groupie, I can’t deny it so I might as well own it.”

“I love Iron Maiden.”

“Shit, you’re fantastic, you know that? You just have great taste in life. You may have awful fucking aim, but you’re alright son.”

“Thanks,” Gerard says, blushing, so he bows his head down to look at his phone. There’s a Weedle near, but he doesn’t care enough about it to go up and start looking. 

“Hey guys there’s a Parasect over there,” someone says from behind Frank. Frank eyes Gerard who nods so the both of them stand up and walk over to where there’s a little group of people gathered. Gerard and Frank make their way over, not too far away but far enough away from the Pokéstop that it becomes too far away to collect anything from.

“There it is,” Frank says stopping abruptly when he sees the little guy, and Gerard frowns, turning around in his spot for a moment before he sees the Parasect. “Another Pokémon that bothers me, honestly. Like where are your fucking pupils?”

Gerard grins and starts throwing Pokéballs at it, worrying slightly that he’s running kind of low. Frank, because he’s fucking perfect, throws one and catches it, only for it to get away. Frank throws three more balls, catching it perfectly with each one, and finally gets it on the last. Gerard throws about seventeen more before he catches it.

“Did you get it?” Frank asks, peering at Gerard’s phone, and getting it extremely close to him in the process. He’s kind of invading Gerard’s personal bubble and if this guy weren’t super hot Gerard would not like it at all. But he is super hot, so Gerard is kind of digging it.

“Yeah,” Gerard says, disliking the way his own voice sounds compared to Frank’s. Frank’s got a really nice voice. Gerard hopes that he’s the singer in his band. He looks down at Frank’s hands quickly to see if there’s any indication that Frank plays guitar, and that’s not the only thing he notices when he looks at Frank’s hands. 

He doesn’t know how he missed it earlier but Frank’s hands are completely tattooed. His hands, and peaking from under his button up shirt, presumably a work shirt, there’s some even more ink. Then Gerard looks back up and this man is fucking killing him. Frank’s got more on his neck, barely visible because of his collar but he’s covered, probably from head to toe, and Gerard just got gayer than he already was. 

“Whoa, you’re completely inked,” Gerard says. 

Frank grins at him, “yeah. You’re completely not.”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “I’m afraid of needles. But you, you’re, just wow. I love tattoos, even though I don’t have them. Just another type of art, ya know?” Gerard refrains from saying that Frank himself is a human masterpiece. Artwork all himself that Gerard couldn’t create even bent over his desk working furiously for three weeks straight. 

Frank nods, “yeah. I kind of never get tired of adding on. I’m kind of terrified for the day that I run out of room.”

The two of them start heading back to the Pokéstop, because they’ve still got another twenty-five minutes until the lure module runs out. Gerard is obscenely attracted to this man which is a major bummer because he’s really hot and people that hot just aren’t gay. It just doesn’t happen. Gerard had had his hopes up with Ryan Reynolds but he just never falls for the gay guys, which is extremely inconvenient.

“I really want to ask to see some of your artwork, but I can’t while we’re playing Pokémon,” Frank says, and Gerard just shrugs. It’s true though, all of Gerard’s artwork that he could show Frank is on his phone which is also where the app for Pokémon is. Frank finds the patch of grass where they had sat, and points to the spot across from him, welcoming Gerard to sit by him.

“So how long have you been playing Pokémon?” Frank asks.

“The app or just in general? The app for like the past few hours, but in general, like, since I was ten. I was always the Pokémon kid, like in my class and everywhere. My brother never really got into it, he’s more of a Powerpuff Girl kind of dude.”

“The same brother that didn’t think you would go to a park with a gun to your head?” 

“The one and only,” Gerard says, “he judges me on anything I do really. Not in a mean way, he’s just, well, he’s younger than me, but he’s the older brother somehow. He’s just wiser and more successful than me, and everyone else to be honest. That’s just sort of his thing.”

“Man, I wish I had siblings,” Frank says. “I fill that void with dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“Yeah,” Frank says, “four of them.”

“Four?” Gerard asks, astounded. “Fuck, I can barely take care of a goldfish. What if one of them walks in front of a bus? I can’t handle that kind of responsibility.”

“You can only handle a Magikarp.”

“I mean, I probably couldn’t even handle that,” Gerard says. “I could probably find a way to kill a pet rock.”

“Maybe, you should back off of the boulder than,” Frank says, and Gerard laughs quietly. Frank and his phone both buzz and they look down to catch the Clefairy who just appeared beside them.

“Another one of these and I should be able to evolve the little guy,” Frank says, which makes Gerard slightly jealous. He’s not very good, but to be fair, he’s only been playing for a few hours. Frank’s probably had it since the app was released. That, or Frank is just way better than he is.

“So how long have _you_ been playing Pokémon?” Gerard asks.

“Oh, not as long as most people, really,” Frank says, “we didn’t have a lot of money growing up so I never had any of the new gadgets or anything. Never had a DS or anything like that, I only ever had cards, and even then, I only got those on special occasions. Birthdays, Christmas, stuff like that. Been collecting since I was about fourteen, I guess. I owned all the movies though, I still do, though they’re mostly VHS tapes. This is the first app or game I’ve had though, actually.”

“Oh,” Gerard says, because it hadn’t occurred to him that anyone could have just not played Pokémon on a Nintendo DS. They weren’t exactly rich growing up, but they had enough for that. 

“Not to be like a major bummer,” Frank says, “like gosh, that sounded super grim, I didn’t mean it like that. I love Pokémon, that’s all that matters right?”

“Yeah, yeah totally,” Gerard says, nodding, and smiling at Frank’s face. Frank’s got a nice face. It’s the kind of face you’d write home about. Gerard certainly will, Mikey’s going to be hearing all about this guy later. Mikey’s going to come to hate this guy with how much Gerard gushes about him. If only he were gay and coincidentally attracted to Gerard. Those are two characteristics that are quite hard for him to find in a guy however.

“Oh, oh crap,” Frank says, “gosh there’s like four all around me right now.”

“Really?” Gerard asks, his phone being a little late and buzzing not once but twice. He sees a Tentacool as well as a Rattata, but decides to go for the Tentacool first since he doesn’t have any. 

“Fuck, there’s too many,” Frank says, “oh god. Who do I go for?”

Frank starts with one who happens to be on Gerard’s right, as Gerard gets the Tentacool on only the second Pokéball, which he is quite proud of. 

“I guess you could say that that catch was… Tentacool,” Gerard says out loud and Frank audibly groans. 

“Fuck!” Frank shouts. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck. _Fuck_!”

“What?” Gerard asks, confused.

“The app just crashed,” Frank says, looking up at Gerard wistfully like he just lost his first born child.

“Dude,” Gerard says, looking at him sadly. 

“And I _just_ saw Onix.”

“Oh man,” Gerard says, shaking his head, “your life is hard.”

“Do I sense some sarcasm in your tone, sir?” Frank asks him, looking mighty pissed considering he’s upset over a snake made out of rocks.

Gerard just shrugs and looks down to see that he’s got an Onix on his screen as well. He gets excited, knowing full well that he’s going to make Frank jealous if he gets it. Onix is one of Gerard’s favorites though so he doesn’t feel bad about it.

That’s when Gerard’s app too breaks. 

“Aw pickles,” Gerard says, “oh you blithering motherfucker!”

“It broke?”

“Server crashed,” Gerard says, groaning. 

“I mean I hate to say that you deserved it, but you deserved it.”

“But I love Onix,” Gerard says, “I identify with him. I mean, not quite as much as Geodude, but I just, I see myself in vaguely humanoid rocks.”

“That’s a real insight into your personality. Personally, I see myself in Jynx.”

“Oh god,” Gerard says, cringing. 

“What?” Frank asks laughing, “you don’t see the similarities?” 

“No, I really don’t,” Gerard laughs.

Frank just shakes his head, “do you wanna get out of here, man? Where there’s some, like, air conditioning? Seeing as Pokémon is a bust for now.”

“Um, yeah,” Gerard says, nodding a little too excitedly. “Coffee?”

“My place is actually just a few blocks from here,” Frank says, “I have coffee, and Pokémon movies.”

“What else could a boy want?” Gerard says, laughing awkwardly. He should probably say no to being invited back to a stranger’s apartment but Gerard is weak and Frank is pretty. He’ll text Mikey the guys address just in case he ends up in a dumpster behind a Game Stop. 

“So that’s a yes?” Frank asks.

“How could I say no?”

“My dogs are going to love you,” Frank says, nodding, and Gerard doesn’t think he’s ever received a higher compliment in his life. He would love to be loved by dogs. Nothing sounds more amazing. He will love them every bit as much back. Possibly more.

“You always lived in Jersey?” Gerard asks as they start walking.

“Oh yeah,” Frank nods, “I had a brief stint in New York, but I always come back. I’m like a boomerang. Just can’t get enough of that great New Jersey smell of murder and garbage.”

“My whole family lives here,” Gerard shrugs. His office is technically in New York City, which is about a forty-five-minute train ride away but he only makes that commute twice a month or so because his job is an antisocial one which suits him well, as he too is antisocial. He just can’t leave when everyone he knows and loves is all right here.

“Yeah?” Frank asks.

“Yeah, Mikey lives a few miles from here. He and his boyfriend are like actually really good cooks and if they weren’t I probably would never leave the house.”

“I’m a pretty good cook.”

“I’d love to see you prove that,” Gerard says, and Frank grins back at him. 

“I would be delighted to.”

“I can’t cook for shit,” Gerard says, “I mean, like, I can make pasta, and can usually avoid burning a frozen pizza but my skills stop about there.”

“Well, what _can_ you do, if you can’t cook?” Frank asks.

“Well art, I would hope.”

“No, I meant besides that.”

“I’m uh, well I’m really good at puzzles.”

Frank laughs, loudly and unapologetically. 

“What? I am!”

“Is there a certain skill that you need for puzzles?” Frank asks.

“Well, I didn’t mean just jigsaw puzzles, like I’m good at puzzles in general. I’m a boss at Sudoku.”

“Oh right, well that’s a much better skill,” Frank nods.

“Ugh, just you wait, in a Nancy Drew type scenario, I would totally be able to get the bad guy, and then I’ll show you just how important puzzle solving really is.”

“Okay,” Frank nods.

“I’m also super good at Origami.”

“Nice,” Frank nods. “I don’t know, besides like the guitar and cooking thing I don’t have very many talents. I guess, I’m uh, I’m really good at Star Wars trivia.”

“Aren’t we all, though?”

“Touché,” Frank nods, then he points to a building across the street, “I’m over there.”

“Okay,” Gerard nods, and the two of them stop at a traffic light instead of getting hit by a bus, which if Gerard were still playing Pokémon, he’d probably do. 

He likes this part of town, it’s not very busy but it’s quaint. There’s a few little boutiques and a coffee shop that Gerard doesn’t recognize the name of so it’s probably family owned. He makes a mental note to go there sometime, because family owned coffee places always make amazing muffins, and Gerard loves muffins. Gerard loves most food, to be fair, but breakfast foods are his biggest weakness. 

Once they cross the road, Gerard hurries after Frank who seems eager to get where they’re going, and Gerard wonders why until he starts to feel a few small little drops of water building up on his head and arms. He looks up to see that the sky is a deep dark greyish white. It’s going to really start to come down in a few minutes, and Gerard’s not eager to get really wet. Especially not if he’s going to be at Frank’s apartment, because the last thing he wants is to be half naked in a straight guy’s apartment, because then there’s nothing he can do, he’ll just be half naked. And Gerard doesn’t like being shirtless in the first place, so it’s just not a good idea. 

Frank’s building is sort of dingy, not exactly awful, but it’s not a very rich city to begin with. He leads Gerard up a few flights of stairs, every step of which Gerard resents. His place is only on the third floor, but Gerard is very much out of shape. He’s run out of breath catching Pokémon, he’s not built for stairs. 

When they finally reach Frank’s floor, after Gerard starts to wheeze only a little bit, Frank stops in front of a door, and Gerard doesn’t like how lacking in personality it is. He knows it’s just a front door in an apartment building, but seriously, Frank’s got personality up to his ears, the plain hunter green of the door just isn’t screaming ‘Frank’ at him. It’s just kind of screaming ‘put me out of my misery.’

Once through the door, Frank sighs with a huge amount of what Gerard would call relief, though he couldn’t say what Frank’s relieved about. 

“Away from people,” Frank says, “I hate people.”

“Okay?” Gerard says.

“Not in like a, ‘oh I’m so edgy I hate people’, sort of way, ‘cause I do actually like people, I just don’t like being around them sometimes. Sometimes there’s too many.”

“Should I- should I go?” Gerard asks.

“No,” Frank says hurriedly, “no not at all. No. Unless you want to. But I’d love it if you’d stay.”

“Okay,” Gerard says. “I can… I can stay. Yeah. Sure. And do what exactly?”

Frank smirks, stepping closer to him, and suddenly Gerard is practically against the wall in Frank’s very narrow entryway, and he’s confused about it.

“What?” Gerard asks, because he doesn’t know what Frank is smiling about.

“Gerard, you don’t need to pretend you don’t know what this is really all about.”

“I don’t-” Gerard starts but he’s interrupted by Frank’s mouth on his. He’s more than a little bit surprised by it. It never occurred to him that Frank liked guys. Not even for a second. Not once. He just assumed otherwise. But now he’s in Frank’s fucking front entrance, and he’s being kissed _by_ Frank, and he’s just kind of standing here like a dead fish doing nothing.

Gerard pulls away, because he doesn’t know what else there is to do. He doesn’t know how to react, what to say, what to do with his awkward dangling limbs of his, he just knows he should stop this, whatever it is, from happening, so that he can clear his own thoughts.

“Frank I-” Gerard starts but his voice withers off, because he can’t find the words.

“Fuck,” Frank says, and Gerard can see that he’s turned white as chalk. “You’re straight. Oh my god. Shit, fuck. I’m so fucking stupid. _Fuck_!”

“No, stop Frank, no. What?” Gerard says, not sure what he’s trying to say.

“I fucked up, and I’m sorry!”

“No, oh my gosh, just listen to me,” Gerard says, stopping him before he seriously starts to wig out. “I’m not, oh my gosh, I just, I didn’t consider, wow, I cannot talk at all. Fucking hell, Frank, you’re totally fine, I’m not straight, I just assumed you were. You caught me by surprise, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting it, it’s totally fine.”

Gerard is trying to rationalize everything in his head right now. He was totally convinced Frank was straight. Completely convinced of it. Now he has to review that assessment in his own brain, but his brain doesn’t like being corrected which makes it slightly more difficult than he would like.

“What?” Frank asks.

“I’ll totally be into it if you kiss me again, I just needed, like, a minute to readjust my own thoughts, I’m sorry. I thought you were straight and you’re not and now I’m just trying to reason that information with myself, I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“Well in that case,” Frank says before springing back on Gerard, completely plastering him to the wall as he practically attacks Gerard’s mouth, like he’s desperate for it. Gerard sure as hell is, maybe Frank feels almost the same way he does.

“Mmm, fuck,” Frank says, but not in a sexy way, in the tone you would use if you’d just remembered you left the stove on. Gerard makes a disgruntled noise, and pulls away.

“Whaa-”

“Unh,” Frank says, in a slightly closer tone to what Gerard would like. Frank starts pulling him, starts trying to move them while also not taking their lips apart and Gerard is a klutz, so he knows this is a recipe for disaster. He’s going to trip over something and then take Frank down with him. 

Frank scrabbles at the wall for a second before finding a light switch. Gerard would take a minute to look around and admire the furnishings if Frank didn’t have his tongue in Gerard’s goddamn mouth. It’s doing some really sinful things that are making Gerard’s thoughts go down the gutter fast. 

All of a sudden, Gerard hears clawing, scrabbling, barking and that’s when he’s accosted by three, admittedly fairly small dogs, but dogs all the same. It’s not that Gerard doesn’t like dogs, because he does, he adores them, even if he is a cat person, it’s just that he’s super close into getting Frank naked right now and what he doesn’t need is a bunch of dogs getting in the way of that. 

“Shit, crap,” Frank says, pulling away and he starts talking to the dogs. Like he’s trying to tell them to go away, but not in the tone Gerard would expect from someone talking to a dog, like he’s talking to the dogs like they are his rambunctious sixteen-year-old son with a Mohawk and a nose ring.

“Fuck… just,” Frank groans, and he turns to Gerard and starts pointing to a room on his right. Gerard walks towards it with Frank following him, pushing the dogs back who all want to smother Frank in love, which would be all well and good if Gerard weren’t trying to do the same thing.

Frank pushes Gerard slightly into the room and then closes the door behind him, pushing the dogs out. Gerard notices quickly that he’s in Frank’s bedroom and he decides that he can be okay with this. He can be more than okay with this. He can be very pleased with this.

“Sorry, they missed me,” Frank says. Gerard just laughs and tries not to snort a little bit, because somehow, he’s never witnessed anything as cute. 

“Okay, but I want to meet them later,” Gerard says.

Frank just grins and then his smile fades a little bit as he looks at something just behind Gerard.

“Oh, Sweet Pea,” Frank sighs and then walks over to a spot where, Gerard hadn’t even noticed, there’s another dog. It’s an older dog, but small, sleeping on a rug, and Frank, seeing no other option, starts pulling the rug towards the door. Gerard tries not to stare at Frank’s butt as he does so, he really does, but it’s hard. His butt is just _right_ there, just asking to be looked at. Frank drags the rug to the door, opens it enough to push it out and then closes the door again behind him. 

“I don’t have company over a lot, they usually walk around like they own the place,” Frank says.

“Just,” Gerard groans, too overwhelmed with the beauty of this man. Frank gets the picture. He walks over to Gerard and kisses him for all he’s worth. He tries to translate a novel into one kiss. A million poems, sonnets, hymns, he tries to get all of those across in this kiss. Gerard can practically hear them all.

Frank pushes him back, ever so slightly, then a little more, just sort of edging him somewhere until the back of Gerard’s knees hit the bed, and he goes down rather clumsily. Not quite as elegant and sexy as Frank when Frank climbs on top of him, and gets his knees on either side of Gerard. He returns to his mouth, not letting Gerard come up for air, and maybe Gerard wants to suffocate from kissing him. It seems like a good way to go. 

Frank doesn’t waste any time though, he’s right down to business. He’s a bit more eager than Gerard had given him credit for. Frank pulls away from Gerard, but only so that he can lift his shirt over his head. He starts to tug at Gerard’s who lifts himself up enough that Frank can get it over his head.

Frank starts to kiss down his chest, making Gerard’s entire form quiver. He moans slightly, a high fluttery sort of noise, which goes straight to Frank’s dick. Gerard can feel Frank, bucking instinctually against his thigh, and if Gerard wasn’t hard before than he sure as fuck is now.

Frank goes back up to Gerard’s neck, and pays special attention to his pulse point, which makes Gerard erupt in goosebumps, prickling him to the very bone.

Gerard tries to say Frank’s name, tries to just tell him that he wants more of everything but he can’t get it out, the words getting lost, choking themselves out into nonsensical sounds.

He feels so completely weird in comparison to Frank. His freakishly pale, unblemished skin, meets Frank’s tanned, inked, and completely flawless skin like the sun meeting the moon. They contrast so starkly to each other, so alarmingly dissimilar, it almost makes them mold together even better. 

Frank grinds down on Gerard, his brain feeling completely primal. He can’t think logically, he just knows that he _wants_ Gerard. Frank ruts against Gerard, searches desperately for that sweet spot of friction where everything is just right.

Gerard decides that it’s not enough, not nearly enough. He wants more from Frank, so much more, a world of more. He undoes the zip of his pants and he tries to get them down, tries fiercely to pull them off, but with Frank on top of him like that, he’s not making much progress. 

Frank however climbs off of him completely, much to Gerard’s protest. He swiftly pulls Gerard’s pants down his legs, off of his ankles where they almost get stuck and then just leaves them there on the ground. He hops out of his own jeans quickly and then he’s back on Gerard before Gerard noticed how cold he got without Frank there. Frank’s warmth is all he needs. That and for Frank to just fucking rub himself off against him, Jesus Christ.

“Fuck,” Gerard says, head falling back for a moment when everything aligns perfectly just for a second only for it to fade away quickly, being replaced with a still very nice feeling, just not as perfect as it had been.

Gerard knows that there’s no way he’s going to find the time to even get his mouth on Frank, it’s just not going to happen. He’s too desperate, too needy, he just needs to get himself off. He cannot even begin to consider having to wait before he gets the chance to do so. No, he’s too selfish, maybe next time. Hopefully there will be a next time.

Gerard can’t handle the _almost_ amazing friction anymore, it’s not enough, not direct enough. He’s too impatient right now. Gerard gets a hand in his boxers, pulls them down enough that they’re not in the way and he can actually jack himself off. It’s way more contact, it’s what he needs, because rubbing himself against Frank, while great and fantastic, it’s not enough for Gerard’s desperation. 

Frank looks down, makes a whimpering sound, and he can’t take it. He hops off the bed almost immediately, his own cock feeling just as hard and frantic for relief, but Gerard’s driving him crazy.

He gets down on his knees on the floor in front of Gerard, and Gerard can tell what he’s doing a moment before it happens. He forces his eyes open, doesn’t allow himself to miss a moment, even though all he wants is to roll his head back to let it rest against the bed. He keeps his eyes unwaveringly on Frank, who’s gaze is far lower than Gerard’s eyes.

Frank’s eyes are frozen on Gerard’s cock. Like, Frank’s not going to say he’s never watched porn or anything, Gerard’s isn’t the biggest dick he’s ever seen, but like, it’s not small. Like it’s actually pretty big. For just a person on the street playing Pokémon Go, it’s a big cock.

Frank gets a hand around the base of Gerard’s cock, making Gerard hiss, because he just _needs_ it. Frank’s far too gone to try to tease him, he’s going to cum untouched if he doesn’t hurry up a little bit, so he sinks down on Gerard’s cock immediately. It’s sloppy, and he knows he can do better, he knows how to give a blow job and this is not the way, but screw it. Frank can’t get all of Gerard in his mouth and he figures that out quickly, what he can’t reach he jacks off with his hand, precum and spit easing the way. 

Gerard can’t last long, can barely even stop himself from jerking up into Frank’s mouth, he’s completely undone from the inside out. He gets a hand in Frank’s hair, tugs on it, to which Frank groans, sending vibrations down Gerard’s cock, and it’s way too much. Gerard cums into Frank’s mouth, with little more warning than a “Frank, gonna-” and then he’s feeling a wave of ecstasy wash over him, like he’s reached nirvana. 

Frank pulls off enough so that he doesn’t actually choke himself around Gerard, tasting a warm and bitter saltiness on his tongue. Most of it rolls down his chin because he really isn’t too eager to swallow it. 

Frank wipes his mouth, and stands up for a moment, looking down at Gerard who’s off in some other world right now. Frank can’t help himself though. He collapses on Gerard and starts touching him everywhere. Not in a sexual way, just for the sake of touching him. He traces the intricacies of Gerard’s skin, barely even touching him and the lightness of his touch makes it feel at least ten times more paralyzing, utterly blissful in fact. He strokes down Gerard’s side, feels his soft pudgy stomach and makes a note to himself to pay some special attention to that later. 

He hasn’t forgotten his own erection though, as he gets his other hand in his underwear and hurriedly strokes himself, so close that he can feel the release starting to build up right in his core.

Gerard still feels rather groggy, not entirely aware of his own self, but he knows that Frank’s mouth is only inches from his. He pulls Frank’s head towards his, and kisses him deeply, almost as a thank you for his own orgasm, but mostly because he just really wants to kiss Frank. He tastes himself on Frank’s tongue, not an entirely pleasant taste but not super gross either. 

Frank gasps into his mouth, a few moans and expletives making their way out too, and Gerard has half a mind to grab Frank’s cock in his own hand, but by the time he makes that decision, it’s too late. Frank’s spilling onto Gerard’s stomach, making a real mess of things which they’re both going to find pretty gross later, but right now, it doesn’t matter. Right now Frank is just entirely boneless, flopping onto Gerard, needing his support to not crumble into pieces entirely. 

Gerard is still pretty much out of it, but enough there to be like, ‘hey, I’m fucking cold.’ He’s not quite at that point where he’s like ‘ew’ yet, though he knows he’ll get there soon, but until then, he grabs a blanket on Frank’s bed and swaths himself and Frank in it. He just wants the closeness right now. He doesn’t want anything more from Frank at all, except maybe conversation in a few minutes. Closeness is all he craves for the time being.

Frank smiles warmly at him a moment later and he looks far too innocent. Gerard can barely believe he just fucked a guy who looks as innocent and untarnished as this. 

Frank leans in, kissing him softly, just sort of to reassure him of something, though Gerard doesn’t know what. Maybe just that he’s there, and that he’s not going to leave, not even for a Snorlax.

Gerard’s cell phone rings, disrupting the serenity. He pops his head out of the blankets, almost animatedly, like he’d forgotten that there was a world outside of this warm bed he’s in.

Gerard finds his phone on the ground, still in the pocket of the pants that he couldn’t get off fast enough. Frank pulls his head up, looks at Gerard who’s sticking his ass out in the air while he grabs his phone. Frank can’t help but look at it. It’s a nice butt. A very nice butt.

After grabbing his phone, he pulls himself back up, and gathers the blankets around him once again, before looking down at the screen to see who’s calling him.

“Oh, Mikes!” Gerard says, turning to Frank before he swipes the screen to accept the call whispering to Frank, “it’s my brother.”

“Hey Gerard?” Mikey asks.

“What’s up little bro!”

“Why do you sound so happy?”

“You will never _believe_ what just happened,” Gerard says. At that, Frank lets out an unflattering snort before Gerard turns to see him laughing so hard he’s practically doubled over from the force of it. Gerard can’t help it but to laugh too when he sees that, just Frank laughing right from his core, putting his whole body into it.

Gerard thinks to himself as he looks at Frank still losing it, and Mikey desperately asking him questions, that Frank is probably the best thing he could possibly have caught from this game.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not sure why I wrote this but at the same time I'm moderately proud. Please leave a comment for eternal love and adoration!  
> [](https://s20.postimg.org/rwj8gb5d9/pokemon_slightly_smaller.png)  
> Also props to the amazing [somebodythinkoftheunicorns](http://somebodythinkoftheunicorns.tumblr.com/) for this nifty as fuck art.


End file.
